How Gallant He Will Be
by SgtMajorShowOff
Summary: Despite their disappointments of last year, the FiM girls decide to give the Gala another try. But when Rarity is roped into getting Applejack's family ready to come along too, she discovers that Prince Charming can be found in the most unlikely of ponies
1. Chapter 1

"Do ah have to say it again?"

Rarity shook her head rapidly to clear it, and nodded mutely, staring back in disbelief at Applejack. The ginger farm-pony sighed heavily and took a deep breath, preparing to plunge into monologue once more.

"Ole Princess Celestia has gone an' sent me a hole bunch'ah tickets which go an' let me take mah family with me to the Gala this year. So what ah'm sayin' is, we need a hole lotta them fancy outfits like what yer made fer us las' year. For mah family. For the Gala. This year."

Although this was now the third time Rarity had heard this lengthy explanation, she still reacted in much the same way: with a fairly gob smacked expression. Applejack kneaded the floor apprehensively with her hooves, and fixed an expectant expression on her unicorn friend.

Eventually, Rarity gathered her composure enough to say weakly, "And how many outfits will that be, exactly?"

Beaming, Applejack began reeling off a list of names. "Well we'll be needin' one fer Apple Cider, Apple Fritter, Apple Brioche, Braeburn, Red Gala, Golden Delicious, Baked Apple and Big Macintosh of course."

Head still spinning from the onslaught of ponies, Rarity turned and trotted over to her desk in search of a pencil and paper. "Is that all, Applejack?"

"Mm hm," nodded Applejack. "Y'see, ole Granny Smith caint go on account o' her bad leg, and so Apple Bumpkin and Caramel Apple are gunna stay behind to take care o' her, and li'l Apple Bloom of course. Oh, an' Apple Tart has got a bad stomach, and so Apple Strudel and Apple Cinnamon Crisp are gunna stay behind t'look after _her_. An' Red Delicious caint go either. An' I guess ah don't need a new outfit either, what with the purty number y'all made me last year an' all," she added as an afterthought.

Slowly Rarity turned and trotted towards Applejack, a large diary floating in front of her. She frowned to herself as the pages turned themselves over with a lazy air. "So that's Apple Cider and Fritter…Apple Brioche, Braeburn, Red Delicious – "

"Golden," interrupted Applejack. "Red Delicious caint go on account of – "

"Yes, yes," huffed Rarity, drawing a line through the offending name. "Golden Delicious and Baked Apple?"

"An' Big Macintosh," Applejack reminded her. "He's mighty excited 'bout the Gala, but you'd never think it t'look at the big fella. But just the other day, why I caught him – "

"Applejack, please," pouted Rarity, turning away and laying the diary on her desk once more, frowning over the list of neatly inscribed names. "So that's seven dresses and one gentlemen's suit for Big Macintosh?"

"Oh Rarity, ain't you the joker," scoffed Applejack. "Why, can you imagine Braeburn in a dress?"

"Well I'm sure I don't know – " objected Rarity, adopting a look of utter confusion.

"Or li'l Golden Delicious?"

"Well I only assumed – "

"Ah'm almost tempted ter say yes, jes' t'see the look on his face!" crowed Applejack, giggling madly at the thought.

"Applejack!" snapped Rarity, bringing the country pony back down the earth.

"Yes, Rarity?"

Haughtily, Rarity drew herself up, readying her pencil. "Would you _please_ tell me _which _of your many relatives are stallions, and which are mares!"

Applejack looked somewhat offended. "Y'mean…y'all don't know – "

"No, Applejack, I don't!" said Rarity shrilly.

Blowing out her cheeks, Applejack huffed, "well I jes' thought yah might have done me the simple decency of getting' t'know mah family an' all…"

"_Applejack!"_

"Apple Cider an' Apple Fritter an' Red Gala an' Baked Apple are all li'l fillies, which leaves Apple Brioche an' Golden Delicious an' Braeburn an' Big Macintosh needin' themselves some fine young stallion outfits, if yer please."

"Thank _you,_" said Rarity primly, snapping the book shut. She tapped the pencil against her bottom lip thoughtfully for a second, and then sprung into action, dashing around the room with a vigour that would have made Rainbow Dash envious. Opalescence miaowed indignantly as the unicorn wrenched reams of opulent materials out from under her fluffy white bottom.

Throwing the material so that it unrolled across the entire floor, Rarity began furiously scribbling designs as only she could. Briefly, she glanced up at Applejack, and her eyes flashed. "Well get out, then! How do you expect me to work with you in the way?"

Tipping her hat respectfully, Applejack backed out the door. "Much obliged, Rarity. Ah'm sure we all gon' look fabulous, thanks to you."

"Of _course _you are, darling," snapped Rarity, not looking up from her latest design.

"And send them all along this afternoon!" she shouted through the closed door. "I need to take measurements!"

* * *

><p>"Hm, yes, that will do," sniffed Rarity, snapping the tape measure closed. The young colt stepped down nervously from the stool, clearly uncertain about where to put his hooves.<p>

"Watch the silk!" snapped Rarity, causing him to jump. "Stand there, no, _there._ Thank you. Now…"

Apple Brioche trembled where he stood, caught like a rabbit in the furious gaze of the mad-looking white unicorn. She narrowed her eyes at him, spread them wide, and tilted her head to the most bizarre angles, before turning back to the many sheets of paper spread before her and tossing a sheaf of them to the side with a wave of her horn. "Yes, I think glen plaid for you, my dear. Or perhaps a herringbone weave? Cashmere? Goodness me, what _am _I thinking? Absolutely not! But then I suppose I must provide a tie…but are cravats not supposed to be _in_ this year? What do you think?" she demanded suddenly, turning on the poor young pony.

He shied away, flattening his ears nervously. "Well, um…ah'm sure ah don't know, Miss Rarity."

But she had already turned away and was pulling drawers open with feverish excitement. "No, I know, a bow tie, it will suit your physique most beautifully! Yes, a bow tie with notched lapel, and that way you will match Golden Delicious splendidly…oh, but his suit was to be pinstriped…" Rarity paused, a flustered and slightly distressed expression crossing her beautiful features. Then she shook herself and a smile plastered itself across her lips once more. "Never mind, never mind! I've always said variety is the spice of life, don't you think?"

"Yes indeed, ma'am," said Apple Brioche meekly.

"Hmm, on second thoughts…" Rarity paused, staring hard at the design floating before her. "Yes…yes! A bow tie for you, and a cravat for Golden Delicious! Oh, simply wonderful." She began drifting around the room in a giddy joy until she slid alongside one of the many mannequins, most of which were already adorned with outfits.

Curiously, Apple Brioche watched as she slid a few more pins into the seams of his outfit, and then added the bowtie with a flourish. He had to admit, it looked marvellous.

"Thank you kindly, darling," Rarity added over her shoulder. "You may go now, and please would you let Macintosh in on your way out? There's a dear."

She stood back and admired the finished suit. Yes, a few stitches here, a bit of tucking in there…perhaps a brooch, or a handkerchief tucked stylishly into the pocket…

Sighing happily, she moved onto the nearest dress, a delicate floaty number with a gauzy train, designed to fit little Apple Fritter's slight frame. The shoulders had given Rarity no end of trouble; the filly was so petite in size that anything too heavy just looked cumbersome, while the simpler styles tended to just slip off. Eventually she had solved the problem with an elegant halterneck.

"Ah'm sorry Ma'am, am ah interruptin' yer work?"

"Oh!" Rarity was dragged out of her reverie by the slow, sonorous tones of Big Macintosh. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't hear you come in. Please, step this way."

Big Macintosh inclined his large blunt head respectfully and slowly trotted into the middle of the room. The tape measure leapt into life once more, and Rarity began sizing the enormous stallion up.

"Hm, let me see," she muttered to herself, squinting at the numbers and scribbling furiously as she did so. "I'm already envisioning something for you, darling…double-breasted, almost certainly. But then should it have a peaked lapel, or a notched? What do you think?"

Big Macintosh looked very taken aback; he had just spent the last few minutes lapsing into a lazy daydream while Rarity took his measurements. "Ah'm sure ah don't know, Miss Rarity."

"Not to worry, not to worry!" trilled Rarity, snapping the tape measure shut and skipping over to the cupboards. "Just hop up onto that stool there would you? There's a dear."

She rifled through her cupboard, humming happily. With a flourish she extracted the pattern for a Gladstone collar and spun around, only to see Big Macintosh balancing precariously by his hoof-tips on the far-too-small stool.

"Oh dear," she sighed, prancing over. "Down you get, if you please. I can see this is not going to work…"

"Ah'm mighty sorry, Miss Rarity," said Big Macintosh, looking down at his hooves.

"Oh _no_, dear," laughed Rarity. "It's not a problem…I'll just clear a space…" With a sweep of her horn, she shifted the array of spare mannequins off the nearby stage. "Just hop up there, please."

Big Macintosh obligingly stepped up onto the raised platform and turned to face her. To his surprise, she began thrusting pieces of paper into his face, and fixing them around his neck. "A Gladstone collar, oh my, it will look simply divine! Yes, I can see it now! Or perhaps – oh dear…"

He looked down at her anxiously, as her face fell and she stepped back once more. "Is there a problem, Miss Rarity? Should ah get down again?"

"No, no!" she said. "I'm afraid this pattern doesn't fit you…not to worry, I have a larger one!" And before Big Macintosh could even draw breath, the paper was whipped away and replaced with yet another pattern.

"I'm not accustomed to catering to customers of such a powerful build," drawled Rarity flatteringly, sliding a few pins into place.

"Well thank ye kindly, Miss Rarity. Ah've bin told ah'm a mighty big help down on the farm," he admitted.

"Well I'm not surprised," she beamed, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "I've never seen such a fine bone structure."

"Thank ye…ah think…"

"Oh!" squealed Rarity, with a suddenness that made him jump. "I've just had a brainwave!" she sang, dancing over and tearing the paper away from his neck with frightening fervour. "Not a Gladstone collar, not at all! An _ascot collar!_ Oh my, yes! It will look _so _dashing!"

"Am ah gunna have to do some dashin'?" asked Big Macintosh uneasily.

"No, that's quite alright…just stay where you are!"

Half an hour later, and Big Macintosh's knees were starting to ache. But he never complained once, and stared resolutely ahead while Rarity continued to pin expensive cuts of material about his chest. All the while she talked, and he tried his best to keep up with her conversation. He felt certain that he had never talked so much in his life.

"Of course, it is the cravat that is in this year, but I've always said that the ascot tie is timeless, wouldn't you agree? And it looks _so_ stunning on stallions of your build…I am of the opinion that an ascot collar just simply doesn't belong on a colt, no no. You most certainly need a big strong figure to pull it off."

"Eeyup."

"But I must admit, the colour is an issue…a black suit would look rather dashing, I must admit, but oh! It will do _nothing_ for your splendid mane colour…I think white? Or would that be too bold? What do you think, Macintosh darling?"

"Hm? Oh, er…" Big Macintosh tore his gaze away from the ceiling to stare down at the excited unicorn mare. He shuffled his hooves nervously. "W-well…Ah would say that white is a tad too bold…mebbe."

"You are absolutely right," said Rarity stoically. "And pinstripe just would not do you justice…Oh! I have some _beautiful_ chocolate brown material! Oh Macintosh, it is simply divine, and it will compliment your coat so well!"

Patiently, Big Macintosh let her arrange yet another array of material shapes about his body, and kept as still as a statue as she pinned them into place.

"Perfect!" she squealed, standing back.

"Can ah get down yet?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh dear, no!" she cried. "I haven't even begun to consider the tie yet."

"Very well, ma'am," he replied.

Rarity paused, and considered her charge for a few seconds. Although he had withstood the ordeal with a surprising amount of patience and poise, the powerful stallion was beginning to flag, and the way in which he hung his head was not unlike the resignation seen in a workhorse nearing the end of a long hard day.

She trotted over and began sliding the material off him once more. "Would you like a drink?"

"That would be most wun'erful, Miss Rarity," said Big Macintosh appreciatively, watching as she began draping the beginnings of his suit around a large mannequin.

Flicking her horn, Rarity summoned a tray laden with two glasses and a pitcher of lemonade from the nearby table, and began pouring out a cold glass.

Big Macintosh settled himself heavily on the floor and began drinking gratefully. Within seconds his glass was empty.

He looked up and watched Rarity prance around the mannequin, frowning deeply to herself. Occasionally she would dart forward and adjust a piece of material, or add another pin, muttering all the time.

His deep voice dragged her out of her thoughts once more. "Yer work is mighty fine, Miss Rarity."

She flushed happily, and fluttered her eyelashes, as she was prone to do when flattered. "I do try."

"Ah can see that."

Delighted to be complimented in such a manner, Rarity spun on one hoof and danced over to a large, velvety dress. "_This _is to be Red Gala's outfit – I've nearly finished! Isn't it lovely?"

"Oh, yes," said Big Macintosh honestly. "It's very purty indeed."

"Ah, yes," sighed Rarity happily, sinking into the thick ruffles of the puffed skirt. "She is going to look fantastic! Like a princess!"

"Indeed, like a princess," agreed Big Macintosh. "Red Gala always wanted ter be a princess."

"Do you like Apple Cider's dress?" squealed Rarity, pushing it forward and watching excitedly for his reaction. "It is an inspired piece of design, if I do say so myself. I thought it was a little daring, with the asymmetric neckline, but do you think it works?"

Big Macintosh looked from her enormous violet eyes to the cream and white dress. "Why Miss Rarity, it is simply stunnin'."

"And do you know the best part?" giggled Rarity, hopping down once more and helping herself to lemonade.

"Ahm sure ah don't."

"I shall dress you all! Oh, it will be such fun! I am going to do all of your hair! Oh, can't you see Baked Apple now, she is going to look fantastic in the coiffure I have designed for her…"

_Coiffure…_Big Macintosh had never heard that word before. It was a very pretty word; he liked the way it rolled deliciously off Rarity's tongue.

"And you!" she shouted suddenly, jumping up once more. "Oh, I must consider your hair! It's going to have to look fantastic."

"But ah like mah mane the way it is," he told her nervously.

"No, no…" she scolded, brushing it off his face with her glowing horn. "I definitely think you should have it back…your suit will bring out your green eyes so splendidly."

"Mah eyes are green?"

"Oh, darling!" Rarity stepped back and stared at him in horror. "You don't know the colour of your own _eyes_?"

Big Macintosh shrugged. "Ah've never needed to."

"But…but don't you have _mirrors_ at your farm?"

"None that ah use," he admitted. "Ah always thought they might be sorta orangey-lookin', like li'l Apple Bloom's."

"Well, I – "

"Your eyes are a mighty fine purple, Miss Rarity," he added.

"It's quite all right, Macintosh, I have a mirror," she trilled. "But…thank you very much," she added, smiling.

They sat in comfortable silence, Big Macintosh staring curiously at each outfit in turn, trying to envision each of his siblings in them. Rarity, for her part, sat quietly sipping her lemonade, staring surreptitiously at the stallion with curiosity in her large eyes.

After a while, Big Macintosh turned to look at her once more. "Miss Rarity, would it be quite all right if – "

Immediately Rarity's often rather overactive imagination sprang into action. If she were to go with him to the Gala? Accompany him on a walk around the fields? Go back to the farm for some apple cider? Oh my! It was all _quite _too much! She fanned herself with one hoof. "Oh, Macintosh, I am sorry. Maybe another time, it's – "

He blinked. "Oh. Well tha's all right, Miss Rarity. Them apples can wait, ah guess."

"After all, we barely know – what?"

"Ah don't have to leave right now, if yer still need me here," he explained patiently. "It's jes' that Applejack was wantin' me home early today, on account of the red apples bein' in need of some prunin'."

"Oh! Oh my, I see!" Rarity hastily composed herself, and swept the glasses of lemonade away. "No, Macintosh, of course! You may go, I have all your measurements, and will start work on the sewing forthwith."

He scrambled to his feet and bowed gratefully. "Ah thank ye kindly, Miss Rarity. 'Tis most ahpreciated."

She giggled girlishly behind one hoof. So gallant! "Why, Big Macintosh, I do believe you will fit in just perfectly with the ponies at the Gala!"

He paused with one hoof on the door. "Do yer really think so?"

"I know so," she said firmly, pulling a spool of thread from a box. "Your manners are impeccable."

"Well ah do try," he said humbly. "Granny Smith always said that a li'l manners takes a pony far."

"Granny Smith would be quite right," ascertained Rarity. "They are going to love you at the Gala."

After a pause, Big Macintosh replied, "and ahm sure they'd all jes love you down at the farm."

Again, Rarity giggled in that way he found so fascinating. Why didn't Applejack ever giggle like that? "Well, I'll be sure to make a visit sometime."

"We'd like that verrae much, Miss Rarity. Y'all take care now."

"See you in a few days." Rarity allowed herself to be distracted by sewing up the first seam on Apple Brioche's waistcoat.

"Miaow." Opalescent settled herself on the stool, and fixed her owner with an almost knowing look.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh Applejack! Whatever did you _do_ to your beautiful dress?"

"Ow! Be careful with them pins! Ah – _ow_ – din't do nuthin'!" Applejack winced as Rarity pranced around her, prodding and poking, pinning and pinching at the rather worn outfit. The beautiful clothing was looking distinctly worse for wear, and Rarity was doing her best to piece it back together. "You told me it was still okay!"

"It is!" insisted Applejack crossly. "Ah don't see anythin' wrong with it."

"Look at this!" Rarity lifted the apple-shaped collarpiece into Applejack's eyes and thrust it forward. "Dirty! Frayed! I'm going to have to replace these threads…"

"Ah don't know how it cud'a happened," insisted Applejack crossly. "Ah just left it in mah cupboard at home, ah swear."

"Did you…" Rarity hesitated, afraid of the answer. "Did you protect it against the moths?"

"The moths?" Applejack shrugged. "Well ah shut the door."

"You…shut the door." Rarity took a step back and fixed Applejack with a stern glare. "Applejack! This outfit is made from only the finest leather and woven fabric! It needs the best care possible!"

"Okay, I get it," grumbled Applejack, turning away huffily. "Ah'll be more careful."

"And the boots!" howled Rarity in disgust, backing away a step. "Is that…_mud_?"

"Hm? These ole things?" Applejack lifted one foot and examined the bottom of the boot. "Oh shure, they might'a got a _tad _dirty…"

"What did you _do _to them?" cried Rarity in horror, dashing over with a sponge and brush. "Take them off at once!"

Obediently, Applejack stepped out of them and watched as Rarity began scrubbing furiously, her large violet eyes filled with anguish.

"Ah might have used 'em in the fields once…"

"_What?_"

" – Or twice…"

"_Applejack!_"

"Hey!" said Applejack indignantly. "Mah other boots done got a hole in 'em so ah had to use them purty numbers fer the harvestin' last month."

"_Harvesting?_" squealed Rarity, turning the left boot around to examine it from all angles. "Applejack, _darling_, these are made of the most exquisite leather I have! I tailored them to fit you _precisely_! I will not have you using them for such…such _trivial _pursuits"

"Trivial? Why how dare ye!" huffed Applejack. "Are ye sayin' that mah apple fields are – "

"Oh hush, Applejack," snapped Rarity, finished off the second boot with a flourish and setting the pair neatly down on the floor. "That's not what I meant. And keep _still_!" she added angrily, poking Applejack reproachfully with her horn in an attempt to stop the cowpony fidgeting so much.

"Ah cain't help it," grumbled Applejack, flicking her tail. "Yer takin' so long!"

"I'm working as fast as I can!" retorted Rarity. "Not even Braeburn was so fussy!"

"Ahm not fussy!"

"Hold _still_!"

"Ow!" screeched Applejack suddenly, flinching back as Rarity accidentally jabbed her with a pin. "Watch what yer doin'!"

"It wouldn't be such a problem if you didn't – "

"Applejack?"

Both ponies suddenly fell silent as the enormous red figure of Big Macintosh appeared in the doorway, ears flattened nervously against his head. "Ah – ahm mighty sorry Miss Rarity…only ah was wonderin' if Applejack can come back t'werk in the fields now?"

"Yep Rarity, see that? I gotta go, see." Applejack hopped down from the stool and proceeded to shrug her outfit off rather unceremoniously. "Ah thank you for all yer help, Rarity."

"But Applejack!" protested Rarity, trotting forlornly towards the door. "I haven't finished with you yet!"

It was too late, however. Applejack had already dashed out of the open door and disappeared down the path in a cloud of dust. With slow, ponderous movements, Big Macintosh turned to stare after his sister and then swung his head back to gaze at Rarity through half-lidded eyes. "Ah do apologise, Miss Rarity."

Hastily Rarity composed herself. "Not a problem, Macintosh, not at all! I can finish Applejack's outfit in peace now, at least."

"Eeyup…well…ah'm sorry."

Sighing, Rarity smiled gently and shook her head, making her thick purple curls bounce. "Macintosh, it's not a problem, really! I guess I was getting a bit short with Applejack anyway."

"Well…sometimes she needs it," he said slowly, transferring his grass stalk from one side of his mouth to the other. "Sometimes she don't know what's good fer her."

"She does work herself very hard," agreed Rarity. "In fact, you all do. Your family are very diligent indeed."

"We do try, Miss Rarity," said Big Macintosh, trying and failing to hide how pleased he was at the compliment. "It takes a great deal ah work to care for all them fields."

Rarity had stopped listening; she was 'in the zone', counting stitches, polishing a little here, tucking a frayed end in there, and stepping back once or twice to examine her handiwork. "Hm? Oh yes," she said vaguely, pulling a shoebox lined with tissue paper off a nearby shelf.

Silently Big Macintosh watched her remove the lid and neatly pack Applejack's now clean and shining boots into the box, nestling them in a bed of soft white paper. She gazed at them lovingly for a moment, nodding approvingly at the results of her efforts, before covering them with the lid once more and floating the box back to its place on the shelf. It was all so strange, a part of a world that he would possibly never comprehend.

"Well…ah must go, Miss Rarity," he ventured tentatively. "Will yer be needin' us back later?"

"Hmm?" said Rarity vaguely, now pacing back and forth in front of Baked Apple's dress, considering it critically. "Later…?"

"Should we come back later?" repeated Big Macintosh patiently.

"No…no, that's all right," said Rarity, frowning as she began counting out emeralds. "If you could just come back on the day of the Gala, I would appreciate it very much."

* * *

><p>"<em>What<em>?"

As always, Big Macintosh was patient; he repeated what he'd said in a slow, calming voice. "It's just fer checkin' an' all, AJ. Rarity wants us to go visit her once more on the day."

Applejack plodded to the next tree and gave it a surly kick. "Ah don't see why we have to," she said grumpily, as little Apple Bloom scuttled forwards to catch the falling apples in a basket on wheels that she was pulling like a tiny carriage. As the red fruit bounced gently against the wicker, the little filly beamed proudly, and stared up at her big brother. "Lookit, Big Macintosh! Ah caught them _all_ this time!"

He smiled back. "Yer doin' great, Apple Bloom."

"And soon I'll be big enough to kick the apples down mah'self," she said proudly, trotting after Applejack, who refused to be dragged out of her bad mood.

"What does Rarity want us for anyway?" she said sulkily, kicking a load of yellow apples to the ground. "Ah'd've thought the clothes would've bin ready by now. The Gala's in three days."

Big Macintosh shrugged in his non-committal way, bending down to pick up an apple that Apple Bloom had missed and placing into his own baskets slung across his broad crimson back. "Well since neither of us are learn'd in dress-makin' like Miss Rarity, ah suggest we do as she sez."

"Miss Rarity, Miss Rarity," sniffed Applejack, casting her eyes to the heaven. "Why yah gotta keep calling her that, big brother, I'll never un'erstand. Nah, she's jes doin' it to annoy me, tha's it," she added haughtily.

"Can _ah_ come?" said Apple Bloom eagerly, watching Applejack and skipping ahead so eagerly that she missed the tree by several hooves and the apples ended up falling to earth unheeded. Without a complaint, Big Macintosh sauntered up and began gathering them up, while Apple Bloom hopped up and down in front of Applejack, ignorant.

"No, yer cannot," snapped Applejack, holding her sister down by her head with one hoof to prevent the filly from bouncing the apples right out of the basket.

"But _whyyyyyyy_," wailed Apple Bloom. "Ah'm not even allowed t'go to the Gala! Ah want to see yer dresses!"

"Yeh've already seen mine," said Applejack crossly, turning her back on her younger sister and stalking off to the next tree.

"Yer so grumpy today, AJ," muttered Apple Bloom, following her more slowly. "It's not fair! I wanna go!"

"Hold yer whining, Apple Bloom," chided Big Macintosh, but gently. "Yer too young. Mebbe you can go next year."

"But can ah still come t'Miss Rarity's?" demanded Apple Bloom, watching the apples fall into her little basket-carriage. "Puh-_leeeeeze_?"

"No," said Applejack, at exactly the same time as Big Macintosh said, "Yes."

They glared at each other for a moment.

"Why shouldn't she?" asked Big Macintosh. "She just wants ter see our clothes."

Applejack cast her eyes to the heavens. "Rarity's gonna be super-stressed, and y'know it. She's not going to want Apple Bloom hoppin' 'round the place."

"But Sweetie Belle's gonna be there!" cried Apple Bloom. "It's not fair sis! I wanna see the dresses!"

Big Macintosh regarded Applejack quietly for a few seconds, and then very gently swept Apple Bloom aside with one enormous hoof. "Hey, Apple Bloom. Why dontcha g'wan back up to the house?"

"Nooo!" she wailed immediately, hopping up and down once more. "Why? Yer gonna talk 'bout _stuff_, arentcha? I wanna hear too! I'm big," she added, standing tall. "I gotta right to hear 'bout the Gala as well!"

Smiling in a confidential manner, Big Macintosh bent down so that his head was level with Apple Bloom's, and whispered in her ear, "But Apple Bloom, how else are we gonna get those apples back home in time?"

"Huh?"

"Dontcha know that if we keep them out in the sun too long, they're gonna go off? You'd better hurry, little sister! Me and AJ can finish off these last trees."

"But – "

"Granny Smith'll be waiting to bake 'em into a pie," added Big Macintosh pointedly.

Apple Bloom considered this for a few seconds, rubbing her chin with one hoof pensively, and then nodded. "Okay. Ah'll take 'em back."

Big Macintosh pretended to wipe his forehead with his foreleg. "Phew! Thank you, little sister. Now me an' AJ don't gotta worry about them apples no more."

Looking happier, Apple Bloom drew herself up and puffed her chest out. "Tha's right, big brother! You can count on me!" Then a thought struck her. "Hey, mebbe _that's_ my special talent! Mebbe mah cutie mark is about gatherin' apples real quick!"

"Only one way to find out," said Big Macintosh teasingly, and the little filly nodded before disappearing in a cloud of dust and squeaky wheels.

The two older Apple siblings watched her canter away over the hills with the basket bouncing clumsily behind her.

"She's gunna spill it," said Applejack glumly.

"That's as maybe," said Big Macintosh, turning to her and adopting a serious expression. "Now ah think it's about time you were tellin' me what's bin troublin' yer."

Applejack blinked; not for the first time, Big Macintosh had surprised her with his remarkable insightfulness. "I – "

He trotted past her to pick another apple up. "Yer've bin mighty stressed of late, AJ."

"Mm," she said abstractedly, striking the next tree and watching him catch the load in one basket. "Ah…ah guess it's just the Gala."

"Huh?"

Applejack sighed. "Ah talked so much about mah family to Princess Celestia last year. Ah told her so much!"

"Was she in'erested?"

"Oh sure, very much so. Ah guess that's why she wants to meet y'all so much."

"I thought Twilight got us them tickets."

Shrugging, Applejack helped Big Macintosh load up the last few apples. "Princess Celestia is just so excited t'meet you all. An' she wants us to sell too."

"Well tha's good, ain't it?"

Applejack made a vague noise that could have meant anything.

"It is," insisted Big Macintosh. "What'cha so worried about?"

"We ain't 'zactly city folk, Mac," she pointed out. "Not even Braeburn. What if – what if they all laugh at us?"

"They din't laugh at _you_, did they?"

"They did."

"Oh." Big Macintosh chewed on his grass stalk and stared over the hills thoughtfully.

"And ah don't want Rarity t'think it's her fault," added Applejack miserably. "She's tryin' so hard, Macintosh."

"Eeyup."

In spite of herself, Applejack shot him an angry look. "It's true! She'll blame herself f'we get inter any sorta trouble."

"Then don't get _into_ any trouble."

"Easier said that done."

"They'll behave, AJ."

"Yer sure?"

He shrugged. "No," he replied honestly. "But they'll try their best, an' tha's all we can hope for. C'mon," he added, turning away from the horizon. "Looks like rain."

* * *

><p>As the fat water droplets hurled themselves against the windowpanes with the full fury of nature in a bad mood, Rarity sat at her desk with her head in her hooves and bit her lip anxiously.<p>

Opalescence opened one eye and flicked her tail lazily, regarding her mistress across the tabletop laden with designs, pencils, thread and material.

Rarity suddenly turned on her chair to face the empty room. She was regarded in what she thought was an almost baleful manner across the room by the rows of decorated mannequins. Most were completely finished, the dresses glinting softly and splendidly in the gentle glow cast by a single lamp. The three suits stood in a row at one end, the starched white of the collars almost glowing.

The offending clothing that was causing the seamstress so much grief stood in the corner, although to the untrained eye it looked beautifully finished, save for the few squares of materials in varying colours pinned to one shoulder.

Sighing heavily, Rarity got down from her desk and trotted over to fuss over it once more. From her comfortable seat on a pile of Rarity's best silks, Opalescence watched in disinterest as the white unicorn examined it from all angles for what felt like the thousandth time.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh!" Sweetie Belle's sudden and unannounced entrance into the room made Rarity jump so violently that she nearly knocked the large mannequin over. "Sweetie Belle! I thought you were at Scootaloo's."

The little filly shrugged, trotting to her sister's side. "She's been grounded, so I came home. What's this?" she added, poking at the suit.

"Don't touch," scolded Rarity. "It's Macintosh's suit, and it's far from finished."

"Really?" said Sweetie Belle in surprise, tilting her head to the side. "It looks done to me."

Rarity sighed. "Sweetie, why don't you – why don't you go do some drawing? I'm very busy."

Sweetie Belle wasn't listening. "Is he the _big_ one?" she asked, staring up at the enormous suit. "Or is he the one that talks all the time?'

"No, that's Braeburn, darling," said Rarity in a resigned voice. "Macintosh is the tall red one."

"What's wrong with his suit?"

"The colour's all wrong," grumbled Rarity, staring at it miserably once more.

"Really?" Sweetie Belle looked from her concerned older sister to the suit once more. It was certainly a splendid piece of tailoring, perfectly trimmed to accommodate Big Macintosh's substantial bulk, and made of a deep chocolate material so dark as to be almost black in dim light. Where the candlelight caught it, the shawl lapel glimmered silkily, while the rest of the outfit remained stubbornly dark. The shirt stood out crisply, and the collar stood high and pointed, a deep red ascot tie folded neatly against the white material.

"What's wrong with it?" asked Sweetie Belle again. "It looks so good!"

"But is it _right_?" worried Rarity, walking around and around it. "He's such a difficult colour to work with!" She didn't add that most of her clientele tended to be much more understated in their colouring and so by her definition, easier to design for. Perhaps it was the generations spent tending to the apples under the hot sun, but the Apple family certainly were a colourful lot. In both senses of the word.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes, something that did not go unnoticed by Rarity. She rounded on the foal. "The Gala is where I get the opportunity to represent myself in Canterlot! Some of the finest ponies will be there, and judging my handiwork! Oh – " She turned away, pressing a hoof to her forehead. " – it's last year's fashion show all over again! No, that's it…I'm over…they'll hate them! They'll scorn me!"

"Psh, big sis," scoffed Sweetie Belle, tossing her curls and trotting away. "You're worrying for nothing! It's fine, they look really nice!" She glanced at Rarity over her shoulder. "Are you done now?"

"But…but _look_ at it…" fretted Rarity, refusing to be placated. "I thought dark brown would suit his red coat but now I'm not so sure…_what_ I was thinking, I don't know!"

"It looks _fine_," Sweetie Belle assured her once more, but the young filly's words did little to soothe Rarity's anxious mind. She cast her violet eyes from Macintosh's suit to the one on her left – Braeburn's outfit.

Applejack's enthusiastic older cousin had turned out to be, if possible, more difficult than Big Macintosh. Not only had the colt _talked _incessantly – Rarity was one for talking, it was true, but she felt that there was a line to be drawn, and Braeburn crossed it by a mile – but he had displayed a great deal of impatience with the whole ordeal, and hade made it clear from the start what he thought of the idea of the Gala.

Rarity had been disappointed. He was a handsome young stallion, and it was not without some degree of interest that she'd remembered him from their adventures in Appleloosa. In any other circumstance she would have been delighted to have such a fine specimen as her model, but Braeburn was a practical, passionate pony and had little patience for the finery and splendour the Gala offered.

Still, she reflected, gazing at the cuts of material. She had done her best and had, as always, outdone herself magnificently. Unlike with Big Macintosh, Rarity had gone for the black approach, appreciating the way the traditional colours stood out strongly against Braeburn's blonde coat.

Sweetie Belle's whingeing drew her out of her dress-filled reverie. "Rari_tyyyyy!_"

"What do you _want_, Sweetie Belle?"

A lesser pony would have quailed under the fierce glare Rarity turned on her younger sister. But Sweetie Belle was used to dealing with Rarity's minor 'moods', and drew herself up, much like Apple Bloom had done before Big Macintosh earlier.

"It's time to stop working."

"I _told_ you Sweetie, I can't, I – "

"It's time to stop working," interrupted Sweetie Belle. "And time to come down to the kitchen. 'Cuz…well – " The unicorn foal had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "I was kinda thinking I would do some baking and I made a mess."

Rarity was silent.

"A big mess," added Sweetie Belle, as if extra detail was really necessary. "And I think I might have broken the mixer."

"You broke the mixer?"

"Well the cake mix hit the ceiling," said Sweetie Belle, by way of an explanation. "I don't think it's supposed to do that."

Despite being so young, she had spent years dealing with Rarity at her worst, and when the outburst came, Sweetie Belle was ready for it. She ducked from the onslaught of pincushions and cotton wool that flew at her in Rarity's magic-fuelled rage and skipped down the stairs, with the furious dressmaker in hot pursuit.

The Gala outfits stood alone against the wall, the raindrops casting melancholy shadows across their silky forms. Occasionally a particularly fat drop would swell and trickle downwards, leaving a streak of watery that bisected the window-shaped pool of evening light.

Opalescence got to her paws, stretching luxuriously. As she hopped neatly down from the table, she dislodged a pile of papers and sent them cascading to the floor. She cast them a disdainful look, and then trotted away, pausing only to wipe her delicate little feet on a stray calendar page.

Then she strode primly out of the room, unaware that her back left foot had been stained a deep purple from the marker pen Rarity had used to draw a large, anxious circle around the date of the Gala.


	3. Chapter 3

**[just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who has been so lovely to me :3 I'm new to all this so it's so nice that people are being really encouraging and also really helpful. Advice is really appreciated!]  
><strong>

It was the day of the Grand Galloping Gala – and Carousel Boutique was in chaos. Sweetie Belle had wisely found herself a comfortable vantage point on the top of the wardrobe, and now she and Opalescence were now watching the proceedings with great interest.

"Miss Rarity, ah cain't find mah…thingy!" called Apple Brioche in some distress across the room, from behind a large velvety curtain.

"I'm sorry, dear?" Rarity called distractedly, circling a trembling Apple Cider as she pulled every last thread and string as tight as possible.

Apple Brioche opened his mouth again but was cut off by his cousin.

"Rarity! Have yer seen Red Gala?"

"Yes, Baked Apple, she's changing right now – "

"Miss Rarity, ah cain't get mah shoes to stay on!" complained Apple Fritter, hobbling over to the white unicorn with ribbons trailing about her ankles.

"Yes darling, I'll be with you in a minute…oh don't walk on them, stay still…"

"Ken someone do up mah buttons?"

"Golden Delicious, yer steppin' on mah skirt!"

"How do ah get this on?"

"Where's mah _thingy_?"

"One at a time, _please_," begged Rarity, finishing the last bow on Apple Cider and ushering the poor flustered filly to one side. "Who's lost their _what_? Where's Golden Delicious? What buttons?"

There was a silence, broken only by Opalescence discreetly coughing up a hairball, much to Sweetie Belle's disgust. A disorderly handful of fillies and colts stared at Rarity fixedly, not unlike a group of naughty children that have just been caught. Shaking her head, Rarity gathered herself up and did a swift head count. Apple Cider and Baked Apple were standing side by side against one wall; Apple Fritter hovered anxiously by Rarity's side, waiting to be helped into her dress, while Golden Delicious, Red Gala and Apple Brioche were poking their heads out from the purple curtains that divided the changing rooms from the rest of the boutique. Braeburn huddled sulkily by the door.

Rarity allowed herself a small smile. At least she had finally managed to learn all their names properly. Then her smile slipped and her heart dropped slightly. This was not going to work. There were just too many of them! Obviously, she was used to dealing with a large workload, but when said workload didn't know a buttonhole from a sleeve…well, it made things difficult to say the least.

She coughed delicately into one hoof. "I'm sorry dears, I can't have you all shouting at once. Now, who wanted help?"

Immediately she was beset upon by what felt like a thousand different voices, which quickly petered out when the ponies realised they were simple shouting over each other. There was another, slightly pregnant pause.

"Ah cain't find the thing which yer said wuz ter go around mah neck," said Apple Brioche in a small voice.

"Tha's called a _bowtie,_ Apple Brioche," scoffed Red Gala, rolling her eyes.

"Well how wuz ah s'posed t'know that?"

In despair, Rarity closed her eyes as they all started talking again. What was she going to _do_? Keeping them quiet seemed like out of the question, and without them quiet, she couldn't work 'ze magics', as Photo Finish would have said.

And then, through all the chaos, a voice cut through, clear and light-hearted, like the ringing of a bell. "Rarity?"

Her eyes snapped open. "Twilight?"

Braeburn jumped as the door swung open, catching him neatly on the rump, and the purple unicorn trotted hesitantly into the room, Spike clinging to her back. "Is – is this a bad time?"

"What are you doing here?"

Twilight shrugged, staring around the room. Spike suppressed a cheeky giggle at Braeburn's indignant face. "I just came to see how you were doing before the Gala…you _are _still going?"

"Of course I am! What made you think I wasn't?"

"Well…" Twilight looked uncomfortable. "You were so angry last year with – you know – what happened…Prin – "

"Yes, I _know_," Rarity interrupted hurriedly. "Well, that's old news, isn't it darling? I've moved on, and all that. But you know," she continued, her voice rising and getting a little more excited. "Now that you _are_ here, I could really do with your help!"

"_My_ help?" Twilight looked somewhat aghast. "But I'm terrible at fashion! You know that! After that disaster with our dresses last year – "

"No, no," said Rarity. "I mean with organising things here a bit. I – " She sighed, and her tail drooped. "I'm not managing as well as I thought I might."

As if to prove her point, Golden Delicious piped up, "ah cain't do the buttons by mahself."

Twilight smiled and gave a slightly exasperated sigh. "Spike, go and help him," she said, nudging the baby dragon gently off her back.

"_Me_? Why?"

"I'm not going into the changing room with him!"

Spike fixed her with enormous innocent eyes. "Why not?"

"Because – " Twilight stopped and shook her head. "I'll explain another time Spike. Just go and help him, please? Rarity would really appreciate it," she added placatingly.

That did it. With a dreamy smile cast in Rarity's direction, Spike toddled off towards Golden Delicious, who stepped aside to make room for the dragon.

"It's jes they're so _tiny_," they heard him grumble.

"Well!" said Twilight briskly, and she took a step forward. "Let's get started, shall we?"

Rarity collapsed on the sofa and hid her face in her hooves. "I don't even dare to look at the clock."

Twilight smiled and swept the last pile of stray needles and ribbons into a corner. "Rarity, it's fine. We did it!"

"_You_ did it," corrected Rarity, rolling onto the floor and struggling to her feet. "And I'm very grateful. Thank you, Twilight," she said with heartfelt emotion. Then her gaze happened to alight on the clock. "Oh – oh my goodness! We've got less than two hours left!"

Twilight paused in her tidying. "But…Rarity, we've got everyone ready. It's fine."

"No, no!" wailed Rarity, falling onto the sofa once more. "I've still got to help Braeburn and Macintosh! And Applejack! Oh!" Her head shot up with a gasp. "_Applejack!_" Immediately she leapt to her feet, and Twilight retreated a few paces nervously as the white unicorn raced over to the window.

"Er, Rarity?"

"Oh, that – that…_insufferable_ pony!" cried Rarity, stomping one hoof petulantly. "I _told_ her to be on time but _no_, she's _late_! _How _am I supposed to get her and Macintosh ready in time_ now_?"

"Two hours, Rarity," Twilight reminded her.

"But I still have to dress myself," whined Rarity, pausing in front of the mirror and tossing her mane critically. "Should I start now? The hair alone may take an hour…"

At the moment, Spike popped his little purple head around the door. "Er, Rarity? Braeburn needs some help."

"What _now_?" huffed Rarity, rounding on him. "He's been fussing the entire time! Is it the cuffs again? Tell him that he _has_ to wear the cufflinks or I will come up there and – "

She was cut off by Braeburn's blonde head appearing suddenly over Spike's. "Evenin', Miss Rarity."

"Evening indeed! Are you ready yet?"

He had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Almost."

"Almost?"

The door swung open and the very neatly dressed young stallion tottered into the room, looking very embarrassed. "I jes can't do the last bit. The crava'thingy."

"Your _cravat_, darling," she beamed as she circled him, examining her handiwork critically. "And oh my, you are looking _splendid!_ Well done, Spike, you've been a wonder, helping him get dressed."

Spike's eyes immediately became unfocused and he swayed dreamily on the spot. "It was my pleasure, Rarity." He nudged Twilight conspiratorially. "Did you hear, Twilight? _Rarity _thinks _I'm_ wonderful!"

Smiling, Twilight rolled her eyes. "I heard, Spike."

They both watched Rarity finish off Braeburn's cravat with a flourish, and then set to tidying his mane rather unnecessarily. Much to his distaste, she had refused him the privilege of wearing his beloved hat to the Gala, and his normally unruly blonde hair had been fiercely combed to one side. He looked almost unrecognisable.

"Wow, Braeburn," said Twilight, grinning. "You look fantastic!"

"No ah don't," complained Braeburn, sidling in front of the nearest mirror. "Ah look…all froufrou!"

"Braeburn!" came a sharp voice from behind. "Y'all show a little more respect, y'hear?"

Everyone turned. "Applejack!" cried Rarity happily. "You're here!"

The earth pony returned her smile somewhat apologetically. "Ah would've come by earlier, Rarity, only Apple Bloom here was insistin' we do some bakin'."

"We made 'em just fer you," the little filly piped up from behind her sister and proudly pushed forward a rather hastily wrapped box. The room was immediately filled with the comfortable smell of spiced apples.

"They might still be kinda hot," warned Big Macintosh as he squeezed through the door. "Ah'm sorry f'my tardiness, Miss Rarity."

"Well, you're here now, that's the main thing," Rarity sighed happily. "Come on, Applejack, let's get you in that dress."

"Why – Braeburn!" Applejack said in surprise, staring at her cousin. "Rarity's got you all spruced up!"

He shuffled his hooves uncomfortably, and looked at the floor. "Ah know."

"Yer lookin' mighty fine, cuz," said Big Macintosh approvingly.

"You look like a prince!" cried Apple Bloom, hopping excitedly on the spot. "I bet Princess Celestia is gunna want to marry you herself!"

"Aw shucks, Apple Bloom," said Braeburn, flushing red. "Celestia wouldn't pay no attention to an ol' pony like me."

"But you said _I_ could marry you," whined Sweetie Belle, appearing suddenly beside Braeburn with a bedraggled looking Opalescence in tow. Rarity's younger sister had spent the best part of the last half hour adding ribbon upon ribbon to the cat's fur, and she was beginning to tire of it.

"Sweetie Belle has taken quite the shine to Braeburn," explained Rarity to an amused Applejack and Big Macintosh. "Well…shall we?"

And they followed Rarity upstairs to get ready, leaving poor Braeburn with Twilight to entertain the two young fillies, who were showering him with questions.

"Do yer _feel_ like a prince, Braeburn?"

"Can I marry you _now_?"

"Wut's that thing around yer neck?"

"Will you take me to the Gala next year? Only Rarity won't let me go this year…"

"Are yer gonna try some of mah apple cakes? Me and Granny Smith made 'em special."

At this point, Twilight felt she had to intervene. "Er, Sweetie, Apple Bloom, I don't think Braeburn should be eating cakes right now."

Apple Bloom looked intensely disappointed. "But ah made 'em _special_!"

"You don't want him to ruin his nice suit, do you?"

"No…ah guess not…" Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle fell silent for a moment, and then the little Apple filly looked up once more. "Hey, Braeburn, where's Red Gala? Big Macintosh said she was gunna look like a princess!"

"She's upstairs with ev'ryone else, Apple Bloom," sighed Braeburn, adopting a very hard-worn expression. "They're all waitin' for the coach."

"Ken ah I go see her?" cried Apple Bloom eagerly. "Ah bet she looks really purty!"

"I'll show you, I'll show you!" announced Sweetie Belle. "Let's go and see everyone!"

The two fillies leapt to their feet and dashed upstairs in a noisy race to be first to the dressing room. Twilight rolled her eyes and started to laugh. "Braeburn, why don't you go with them? You haven't seen everyone looking their best yet either."

"No thanks," muttered Braeburn, tilting one fore-hoof awkwardly. "Ah don't want 'em all laughin' at me."

Twilight looked surprised. "Laughing at you? Would they do that?"

"Ah look so…funny!" explained Braeburn, gesturing to the silky cravat around his neck. "Ah'm an Appleloosan! Ah belong in a pair of ol' work duds, not fancy-makin' clothes like these."

"But you look so nice!" insisted Twilight, nudging him in front of the mirror once more. "Look at yourself! You're going to have so much fun tonight."

"Hm." Braeburn stared at himself in the mirror, and saw a pony he didn't recognise. The black material of the suit was so dark against his yellow coat that in dim light he almost appeared golden, something Rarity had elegantly highlighted with some shining golden buttons down the front, small enough to be tastefully understated, but still dazzling in the right light. The same effect had been achieved with his small apple-shaped cufflinks.

It was the cravat that bothered him the most, however. Secretly he rather liked it – it did make him look rather…sophisticated, but there was no denying that it felt rather strange and uncomfortable so close to his chin.

He scowled. "Huh."

"You look fine, " insisted Twilight. "Really." She turned to head upstairs. "Like a prince."

She left Braeburn standing in front of the mirror, examining his reflection thoughtfully.


	4. Chapter 4

**[[Omg hi everyone...sorry about the delay, especially with all the amazing support i've been given with this story. I've been moving house and have had no time at all (or internet, woe is me). Oh and incidentally, if anyone has any tips on how to keep a plot flowing/plan out a story more coherently, I'd love to hear them :)]]**

Applejack was prancing around in agitation, much to Rarity's chagrin. "Applejack, _please_! You're going to mess up your coiffure! And it took me _so_ long to get it just right!"

"Ah'm sorry, Rarity," said Applejack in distress, pausing to stare left and right. "But ah cain't find everyone! We're s'posed t'be leaving _now_!"

Rarity bit her lip and glanced through the Boutique window at the clock. Applejack was right; they had planned to leave about ten minutes ago. Behind her were two opulently decorated carriages, courtesy of Twilight – who was already well on her way to the Gala with the other girls.

"Apple Fritter! Where are ya?" Applejack cried, sticking her head through the front doors of Carousel Boutique.

"Ah'm here, AJ!" the little filly called back indignantly, poking her nose through the window of the carriage. "Ah've bin here the whole time."

"Oh…r-right," apologized Applejack. "But if yer in there, where did Red Gala go?"

"She went in ter use the fay-ci-li-tees," announced Apple Brioche, appearing beside Apple Fritter. "Say AJ – is there gunna be food at this here Gala?"

"Apple Brioche!" snapped Applejack, trotting over. "What in tarnation are yer doin' in there? Yer s'posed to be in the other carriage! That one there's fer all us fillies."

Reluctantly, Apple Brioche allowed himself to be pushed out by the collective hooves of Apple Fritter, Apple Cider and Baked Apple, and trotted sullenly over to a waiting Golden Delicious.

"Right. Every'wun in," said Applejack resolutely. "We'll jes have to wait for Red Gala 'n then – hey, where's Big Macintosh?"

"And Braeburn?" said Rarity in confusion, glancing through the window of the stallion's carriage.

"Ah'm here, ah'm here!" said Braeburn apologetically, galloping through the front door. "Ah din't know where y'all had gone."

"Git in the carriage and quit actin' up," snapped Applejack, stress making her tetchy.

At this point Red Gala appeared, apparently blissfully unaware of the confusion she had caused. Applejack immediately began pushing her towards the larger of the two carriages, and performed a hurried head count. "Jes Big Macintosh left…where could he have got to?"

"There he is!" said Rarity suddenly, pointing to the front of the stallion's carriage. Big Macintosh was standing patiently beside the other two ponies they had hired to pull, almost unrecogniseable in his dark brown suit.

"Macintosh!" said Applejack reproachfully. "Why din't you answer when ah called?"

"Ah din't hear you, sis," he said calmly. "Are we ready t'go now?"

"We would be f'you got in the carriage. What're you playin' at, standing out here?"

Big Macintosh looking faintly surprised. "In the carriage? But ah thought - "

"Yer not _pulling_, yer dozy old thing," laughed Applejack, comprehension dawning on her. "G'wan, git."

"Ah'm not?" he said in bewilderment. "But - "

"Yer not on the farm now, Mac."

"No, quite!" interrupted Rarity, beaming at the siblings. "Yes, tonight is your night to _shine_!" She spoke dramatically, emphasizing the last word with a wave of her elegantly manicured hoof. "Now! Let's get going! Chop chop!"

Obediently Big Macintosh trotted into the carriage to sit beside Braeburn, Golden Delicious and Apple Brioche. Braeburn had managed to shake his forebodings, and had gone from looking distinctly miserable to thoroughly excited.

Relieved, Applejack climbed up into the larger carriage, followed by Rarity, and sat down comfortably on a plush cushion. "That was much harder than ah expected," she admitted. "Ah thought ah had this lot under control!"

"Now Applejack, tonight is a night to have _fun_," insisted Rarity, carefully settling herself to avoid crushing her carefully styled tail. "You need to relax."

"Gosh AJ, d'yer think we'll get t'meet the _princess_?" interrupted Red Gala breathlessly. "Ah would love that _so_ much!" As she spoke, the flowers adorning her pale green mane bobbed gently. "It would be like a dream come true."

"Well _ah_ cain't wait to see the palace," announced Apple Cider, tossing her blonde mane. Rarity had combed it out and added some beautiful waves that spilled over the pastel material of her dress. "Ah bet it's simply stunnin'!"

"An' the band!" put in Apple Fritter. "Mebbe we'll get to hear them play all kinds of stuff! Like the oboe!"

Rarity and Applejack smiled fondly at each other as they remembered the excitement of their first Gala. Applejack just hoped that this time, the Gala would live up to expectations. She loved her family deeply, and the thought of her little cousins being disappointed all but broke her heart.

Gently Rarity brushed a stray hair out of Applejack's large green eyes, and she smiled gently at her friend. "Don't you worry, Applejack. We're going to make sure they have the best time they could ever hope for!"

In the stallion's carriage, the conversation was a little more stilted. Braeburn managed to keep it going, although he rather had his work cut out for him, particularly with Big Macintosh being so uncommunicative.

"Ah wonder if the princess is gunna be there."

"Ah hope so," said Apple Brioche rather dreamily. "It'd be _amazin'_ to see her in person."

"Mebbe we ken _talk_ to her," said Golden Delicious eagerly. "Ah bet Twilight would introduce us!"

"That'd be somethin' t'tell the others back at Appleloosa," said Braeburn. "What d'you think, Big Mac?"

"Eeyup."

"An' the food!" said Golden Delicious suddenly, his ears perking up. "Apple Bloom told me all about it. They have more food than you ken care to think of, all that fancy stuff like can-a-pays an' hors-der-oovre an' - "

"What's a can-a-pay?" demanded Braeburn. "Ah reckon yer jes makin' all them words up."

Big Macintosh's gaze drifted out the window as Braeburn and Golden Delicious settled down into a comfortable argument. Normally he would have found Braeburn's excitement infectious, but tonight he couldn't muster any feeling beyond and uncomfortable squirming in his stomach.

He shook his head slightly, and wondered what was wrong with him. It was Applejack, not him, that was worried about the Gala, he reminded himself. He had to stay calm and collected for her. Besides, he was in a fancy coach, dressed up in an outfit that probably cost more than all his earthly possessions, heading towards a strange city of high-class ponies that were probably going to judge his family from the moment they stepped through the gates.

Really, what did he have to be worried about?

Big Macintosh scowled to himself, and shut the curtains.

"Ooohhh…" Apple Cider's eyes opened so wide that they appeared to fill nearly half her face. Her gaze travelled slowly upwards, taking in the lush greenery of the palace gardens, the orange halo cast by the elegant lanterns lighting the way, and the tallest tower looming over it all.

Applejack laughed good-naturedly. "Yer might want t'shut yer mouth a'fore a bug flies in, Apple Cider."

"It's so…be-_yoo _-teeful!" breathed the little filly, slowly trotting forward in a daze. "Ah've never seen such a big castle!"

"Are they the gardens, AJ?" asked Red Gala excitedly. "Ken we visit them?"

"Lookit the fountains!" cried Apple Fritter, galloping to the edge of the bridge and peering over. Below, gorgeous crystal arcs of water sent luminous ripples across the surface of the lake. The small wavelets caught the lamplight with an attractive yellow glow.

Happily, the four little fillies all leaned their forehooves on the parapet and watched dreamily as a little shoal of glittering fish darted by under the bridge, scales sparkling through the impossibly clear water.

"It's like a fairytale," sighed Baked Apple. "One day ah'm gunna live here."

"C'mon, y'all," said Applejack briskly, giving Red Gala a gentle nudge. "Yer haven't even seen the Palace yet. We best be movin'."

Rarity took a brief moment to preen herself, and then trotted up alongside Applejack, determined to lead the way into the Gala. They were all wearing her handiwork, after all. She allowed herself a tiny peek over her shoulder, just to admire how wonderful they were all looking. It was always nice to appreciate a job well done.

And it appeared that it was not just her thinking this. As the motley crew made their way down the stone path, heads turned and eyes widened. Canterlot ponies watched them go past, and then whispered behind their hooves, wondering who on earth those beautiful fillies were – the though made Applejack's heart nearly burst with pride, and she couldn't help but give Rarity an excited nudge. "Everypony's lookin' at us!"

Rarity, misunderstanding her meaning, gave her friend a gentle smile. "Oh Applejack, don't worry. I promise, everything is going to be fine."

"Ah know, ah know," Applejack assured her hurriedly. "What ah _meant_ was, isn't it excitin'? And it's all thanks t'you."

"Oh, _darling_." Flushed with success and pride, Rarity raised her head proudly as two elegant grey unicorns bowed their horns to the ground and pushed the Palace doors open. Behind her, Apple Brioche and Apple Fritter practically squealed with delight and excitement. Both Applejack and Rarity exchanged amused looks as the earth pony's cousins blushed and fluttered their eyelashes at the handsome Canterlot stallions, who smiled gallantly back.

As soon as they were past the doors, Apple Brioche and Baked Apple exploded into fits of girlish giggles. Apple Cider, however, was more interested in the palace interior. "Oh, _woooww!_ Apple Fritter! Jes' look at all the fancy lights! They're made of _real crystals!_"

Suddenly, Red Gala stopped short, her mouth flopping open. The rest of the group paused, and looked back at her. Applejack raised one eyebrow in confusion. "Er, sugarcube? You okay?"

"P – Pr – P – "

"Darling?" enquired Rarity, coming closer. She wondered if nerves had gotten to the young pony after all. "Would you like to step outside once more? I can show you around the gardens if you like, they are simply divine."

"Pr – Pr – "

"Red Gala!" said Applejack, slightly worried now. "What's goin' on? Spit it out!"

"_Princess_!" Applejack and Rarity both followed the direction of her awestruck gaze to the swooping marble staircase, littered with smartly-dressed ponies all processing towards the top step, where stood the beautiful and imposing figure of –

"Princess Celestia!" squealed Red Gala. "_Eeeeee_! Ah cain't believe it! She's standin' _right there_! Oh, she's so pretty!"

"Braeburn!" called Baked Apple suddenly, gesturing with one hoof. "Hey, AJ! Braeburn 'n the others are over there!"

And sure enough, there the four stallions were, standing huddled under a window and all looking nothing short of terrified. At the sound of Baked Apple's voice, however, Braeburn's expression broke into one of visible relief, and he trotted over as fast as was polite.

"Ah'm ah glad t'see you! We got lost on the way in. I mean, really, cuz," he added reproachfully, looking at Applejack. "Were you jes' gunna _abandon _us like that?"

"O' course not," huffed Applejack. "We was lookin' for you."

"What was you doin' over there?" demanded Baked Apple.

"Nuthin'."

"He was wonderin' if he was 'lowed to talk to the Princess," piped up Golden Delicious, earning himself a cross stare from Braeburn.

"_Allowed_?" laughed Rarity. "Goodness me, my dear, of course you are _allowed_! Why, she positively welcomes it! Why don't we all go say hello?"

Braeburn's expression changed to one of panic. "What – right now?"

Rarity tossed her mane. "Darling, don't look so frightened. _I_ – will help you."

She moved to stand in front of Braeburn. "Now, when you greet the Princess, remember to smile."

Braeburn bared his teeth in an unpleasantly forced grin.

" – er…less _toothy_," said Rarity uncertainly. "Just a natural smile. Bow your head like so…"

But Braeburn had lost his nerve. "Oh AJ, cain't we go around her or sum'n?"

"No!" said Rarity crossly, drawing herself up. If it killed her, she would get these ponies into the Gala, and they were _going to enjoy themselves._ "Let's try again! Macintosh!"

Big Macintosh gave a start. "Eeyup?"

The extended Apple family all watched in fascination as Rarity lead the large farm colt to stand in front of her. "Now…I will be the Princess. Good _evening_, kind sir." And she gently inclined her head, fluttering her eyelashes gracefully.

Privately, Applejack reflected the Princess would never be so formal-sounding, but she let it slide – this moment was too funny to pass by.

Braeburn, Golden Delicious and Apple Brioche all watched curiously as Rarity straightened up once more, and smiled expectantly at Big Macintosh. For a moment he looked very uncomfortable, but then took a deep breath and bowed low, raising one forehoof elegantly as he did so. "A pleasure, yer Majesty."

Rarity almost went into spasms of delight. "_Wonderful_, Macintosh! Simply _divine!_ They are going to _love_ you, didn't I say?" She beamed at Braeburn. "You see? It's all in the presentation – be gentle, polite and try not to tense up."

Slowly, Braeburn nodded. Under Rarity's keen eye, he too bowed demurely, accentuating the greeting with a casual tip of the hoof.

"We're losin' the evenin' here, Rarity," Applejack reminded her. "Ah can see Twilight up there, why don't we just g'wan up and say howdy?"

"One does not simply say _howdy_ to a princess," Rarity grumbled under her breath, but she obediently followed her friend across the hall.

As she began gently shepherding the fillies and colts up the plush and marble staircase, Rarity gave Big Macintosh a shrewd look. "Are you all right, darling?"

" – eeyup."

Her gaze lingered for a few more seconds, and then she turned away. Big Macintosh swallowed; there was a little too much knowing in her lovely violet eyes for his liking.

"Rarity!" Twilight called across the cavernous space. She was standing, beaming, at Celestia's side and stepped forward as the first of Applejack's cousins approached nervously.

Rarity returned her smile. "Darling! Thank goodness we found you, I apologise for being so late…"

"You're not late," Twilight assured her. "The Princess and I were just starting to welcome the guests."

"Indeed," said Princess Celestia genially, smiling kindly down at Red Gala. "And what is your name, my little one?"

Red Gala desperately tried to speak, but her words only came out as a trembling stutter. "R-Reh…"

Quickly, Twilight stepped forward and extended one hoof. "My name's Twilight Sparkle. I'm a friend of Applejack's! Is this your first time at the Gala?"

Wordlessly, Red Gala nodded, still staring awestruck at the Princess.

"It's so nice to meet all of you! Do you all come from Appleloosa?"

"Ah come from Hoofsdale," piped up Apple Brioche, and then shrunk down behind Golden Delicious once more, shocked at his own daring.

"I was there only last week," smiled Celestia. "Your apple fields are very impressive. I forgot to thank your citizens for such lovely apple tarts, would you be so kind as to mention it to them for me?"

"Mhm-hm," squeaked Apple Brioche.

"Ahm from Appleloosa," volunteered Golden Delicious, feeling a little braver once he saw how sweetly the Princess could smile. "Ah help mah papa grow apples fer a livin'. Sometimes – "

"Is it hard bein' a Princess?" interrupted Red Gala breathlessly, as though she couldn't hold the words in any longer. As everyone turned to look at her, she flushed brilliantly and looked away. "Ah – ah mean…you know…it must be – must be difficult 'n all…"

"Well yes, sometimes it can be," said Celestia. "I have to visit a great deal of towns and ponies – I do love every second of it, though!"

Flushed with her own daring, Red Gala nodded shyly and retreated behind Big Macintosh.

Princess Celestia dipped her head gracefully and gave the assembled ponies a beautiful smile. "It really was fantastic to meet you all, but I must continue with my duties. I suggest you head inside and take a look around. The palace really is spectacular."

As the group trooped obediently past her, she bent down to Apple Brioche and whispered conspiratorially "but between you and me, I'd avoid the prawn canapés." As Apple Brioche turned and gazed at her in shock, she winked and straightened up once more to greet the next set of guests.

Giddy with joy and excitement, Red Gala and Golden Delicious all but galloped into the main hall, chattering madly. Even Braeburn had relaxed somewhat, despite being too overwhelmed to even speak a word to Princess Celestia.

"Next time, ah'll tell her all about Appleloosa," he said determinedly to Applejack. "Jes stage fright, is all. Now where are them cana-pays?"

Applejack laughed and gave Rarity a friendly nudge. "Ah gotta hand it t'you, Rarity. You shure know how to take care of a pony."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look at 'em!" beamed Applejack, gesturing to her cousins. "They're fittin' natural as you please, and no one's even looking at us funny."

"I told you," smiled Rarity. "It's next to impossible to dislike any member of the Apple family, anyway."

"Aw shucks, listen to you," teased Applejack. She paused, and did a quick sweep of the hall, frowning. "Hey…speaking of the Apple family…Where's Big Macintosh?"

Rarity hurriedly followed her gaze around the room. "He's not here?"

"Did he get lost?"

"Impossible, we just came through that door!"

"Was he there when we saw the Princess?"

"I – " Rarity hovered on the brink of uncertainty. "I think so…"

Applejack sighed. "Oh boy…I guess we'd better go look for him."

"Where could he be, though?" fretted Rarity. "And we can't leave the others alone! It's not fair on them."

"It's verrae unlike him," agreed Applejack. "Mebbe he jes stepped outside for a breath of air?"

"I'll go check the gardens," volunteered Rarity. "You stay here with your family in case he turns up."

As the white unicorn turned and trotted purposefully away, Applejack set her shoulders and strengthened her resolve. If there was one thing her family had given her, it was the ability to deal with even the worst of setbacks. She was used to Big Macintosh's constant presence and his straightforward advice, but now Applejack wondered if there was more going on in his mind than he'd let on. Guiltily, she reflected that in the midst of all her nerves about the Gala, she never once stopped to consider the possibility that ever-dependable Big Macintosh might be feeling some misgivings.

She shook her head. "Now AJ, don't be fussin' yerself. Rarity'll find him."


End file.
